


Disney Slash Ficlets

by Salmon_Pink



Series: Disney Ficlets [2]
Category: Disney Animated Fandoms, Emperor's New Groove (2000), Frozen (2013), Kingdom Hearts, Princess and the Frog (2009), Tangled (2010), Tarzan (1999), The Little Mermaid (1989), Treasure Planet (2002)
Genre: Bondage, Community: 100_men, Community: fan_flashworks, Community: writers_choice, Crossdressing, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-11-07
Packaged: 2018-02-20 13:08:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2429990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salmon_Pink/pseuds/Salmon_Pink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Assorted Disney ficlets, all featuring slash pairings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chasten (Kristoff/Hans)

**Author's Note:**

> All ficlets under 500 words, all individually rated. Additional content notes, such as kinks and spoilers, included where necessary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Frozen_ , Kristoff/Hans, rated NC-17. Hate sex. Written for [100 Men](http://100-men.livejournal.com/), prompt "enemies".

Kristoff’s teeth dig into the back of Hans’ neck, his growl vibrating against the skin. His presence, fierce heat and the scent of dirt and hay, is thick and overwhelming, bearing down on Hans’ back as solidly as his weight. It makes Hans feel dizzy, frustratingly weak, and he tries to push up with his arms, tries to work his hips back, but Kristoff stubbornly keeps to his own pace. Fucking Hans _hard_ but not nearly as fast as he needs it, and Hans grunts and hisses, ass feeling over-sensitised, skin slick with sweat.

“Haven’t got all day,” he sneers, because they’ve all seen the real him, there’s no use pretending he’s not the callous and impatient bastard he knows himself to be.

That gets him a twist to Kristoff’s hips as he fucks back in, but then he’s pulling out slow, drag of friction along Hans’ rim that makes his arms shake, his eyes roll up. “You don’t get to call the shots here,” Kristoff rumbles, voice a low warning. And Gods, if that doesn’t make it _better_ , the threat of this man, the reminder that this is a punishment. One that Hans is happy to take, cock throbbing, leaking against his stomach, and he’s so used to careful manipulation and trickery that being dominated like this is a _thrill_.

Not that he’ll ever admit as much, and he snarls and arches his back as Kristoff takes him slowly enough to drive him out of his mind. They’re enemies, after all, Kristoff will never forgive him for what he’s done to Anna, and Hans would never expect him to. But they still have _this_ , the heat between them, the bite marks Kristoff leaves along his shoulders, the sounds he muffles into Hans’ skin. There’s a roughness to Kristoff, a wildness he hasn’t learned to tame, and with Hans he can release all that, let it go, be exactly as brutal and selfish as he wants.

Hans will take it all, because he lost, because this is his punishment, and because he _wants_ it. And because the more Kristoff comes to him, the more addicted he grows to Hans’ body, and Hans may not have the crown but in this he has found his own private victory.


	2. Death By Monkeys (Naveen/Tarzan)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _The Princess And The Frog/Tarzan_ , Naveen/Tarzan, rated PG. Written for [100 Men](http://100-men.livejournal.com/), prompt "strangers".

Well, this is embarrassing. Naveen’s always figured that if he doesn’t get to live to a ripe old age, he’ll at least go out in an explosion of decadence.

Death by _monkeys_ never really crossed his mind.

In hindsight, Naveen probably should have let that little one have the ring. But it’s one of the few pieces of jewellery he smuggled out of the palace the night his parents sent him packing, and it’s worth enough to keep him in relative luxury until he can find a rich woman to marry.

That is, if he ever gets out of this ridiculous _jungle_.

Maybe he shouldn’t have gone exploring on his own, but the shipwreck was such a _downer_ , and Lawrence wouldn’t stop complaining, so Naveen figured he’d go for a walk.

Bad plan.

Because when the little monkey had swiped his ring, Naveen had swiped it back. And when the monkey had started wailing and sobbing, Naveen had simply shrugged and smiled and said, “That won’t work on me, my friend.”

Turns out the little monkey had family. Extremely _pissed off_ family.

So then there’d been the running and the fearing for his life, monkeys following him in a storm of claws and fangs, and then there’d been a stranger leaping through the foliage and hauling Naveen against his body like a sack of potatoes. And now Naveen’s being dragged through the treetops, monkeys still in frenzied pursuit. 

He always kind of hoped, in his more morbid moments, that his death might involve an orgy. Not falling from a tree in the middle of nowhere.

But the stranger is impressively strong, and he seems able to balance Naveen’s weight, even at the speed they’re moving at through the vines. Naveen hasn’t seen the man’s face, not beyond a brief glimpse of a frustrated frown over intense eyes. Mostly he’s been flung over the man’s shoulder, so his line of sight is dominated by the rush of trees and a very defined back, tanned skin over rippling muscles.

The monkeys tumble after them, teeth gnashing and eyes glowing, and the man drops Naveen on to a tree branch, swinging around the trunk to land in front of him, standing up to his full height.

It’s the first time Naveen’s gotten a really good look at the stranger.

He hears himself whisper, “ _Ashidanza_!”

The man is built like a God, impossibly chiselled, perspiration glistening across his chest and the lines of his abs. He’s wearing only a loincloth, and Naveen’s already racing heart kicks up a notch at the sight of all that _skin_.

And then the man is hefting Naveen up again, holding him with an arm under his torso and knees this time, before skidding down the slick, moss-covered branches, monkeys still howling for their blood.

Naveen’s starting to think going for a walk wasn’t such a bad plan after all.


	3. Readiness (Silver/Jim)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Treasure Planet_ , Silver/Jim, rated NC-17. Masturbation. Written for [100 Men](http://100-men.livejournal.com/), prompt "open".

Jim presses his forehead against the back of his wrist, breath hot and humid, sweat forming across his neck and glistening in the hollows of his collarbone. His knees dig into the mattress, spread wide, cock full and heavy where it curves up towards his stomach. Squeezing his eyes shut as he fingers himself roughly, shoulder aching for the angle but he’s beyond caring.

The pain just makes it _better_.

It’s been months since he last saw Silver. Their paths don’t cross often, even though Jim spends every spare moment chasing down leads, hunting for information on Silver’s whereabouts. It’s getting harder to find the time as he climbs through the ranks of the military, but that just makes him more determined to find the man. More determined to make every moment they can snatch together _count_.

Which is why he’s on the bed, balanced between his knees and one arm, two slicked fingers up his ass and trying not to groan for the feeling. The inn has dangerously thin walls, and he doesn’t need everybody in town knowing his business. But it’s difficult, so damn difficult, trying to keep his voice to himself when all he can think about is the last time he found Silver, how the bigger man pinned him against the floor, how he felt when Silver fucked his way _inside_.

Silver’s so _big_ , and Jim could feel the ache in his ass for days afterward, dull throb every time he sat down that left him squirming, body reacting to the memories at the most inopportune times. 

But Silver’s size takes some getting used to, and that’s the point of this, the point of working himself open whenever he can manage to get a room to himself. He’s _preparing_ himself, making sure his muscles remember the stretch, making sure that if he meets Silver tomorrow his body will be able to take everything Silver can give him.

And, God, Silver gives him so _much_. Opening him wide, one large hand holding Jim down easily, because no matter how tall Jim’s grown since they first met, Silver will always be bigger. Murmuring utter _filth_ as he fucks Jim deep and hard, until Jim’s whining and gasping for it, writhing beneath him, trying to buck up for more. Feeling Silver’s heat, his weight, slick slide of his cock and the twist of his mouth as he kisses Jim hungrily, and it’s so easy to get lost in the memories. Phantom scent of Silver’s skin teasing him as Jim presses in with another finger, and he bites his wrist to hold back his moan.

He’s going to be ready for Silver the next time they meet, in every possible way, and Jim feels his ass clenching up around his fingers, cock jerking and hips twitching, Silver’s name muffled into the pillows as he comes.


	4. Stilettos And Style (Kuzco/Pacha)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _The Emperor's New Groove_ , Kuzco/Pacha, rated G. Crossdressing. Written for [100 Men](http://100-men.livejournal.com/), prompt "found".

Wow, it feels good to be back in his own body again. And yet there’s something nagging at the back of Kuzco’s mind, like an itch under his skin he can’t hope to reach.

For a while he thinks he actually _misses_ being a llama, which is just ridiculous. He doesn’t miss the hooves, the shaggy hair, trying to walk on four legs, he _doesn’t_ , and he’s so sure of that fact that it puts his mind at ease, at least for a while.

But then the nagging comes back, the sense of longing. He doesn’t understand, but it’s there all the _time_ , telling him that something’s wrong.

He tries to explain it to Pacha, lying in the solid warmth of his arms. Pacha listens intently, but he can’t shed any light on what Kuzco’s yearning _for_ , any more than Kuzco himself can.

He discovers it by accident. He’s eating berries distractedly, eyes raking over scrolls of announcements he needs to approve, because he actually _cares_ about that stuff now. Kuzco glances up, catches sight of his reflection in one of the many mirrors around his room, because he may have learned to care about other people, but that doesn’t mean he’s gonna stop being a narcissist any time soon.

Kuzco sees the juice stains across his mouth, dying his lips a deep shade of scarlet, and thinks _oh_.

He remembers dressing as a woman in that diner, and feels a flush of _heat_.

He keeps it to himself, at first. Mostly because he doesn’t really understand it. And because keeping it a secret makes it feel _naughty_ , and that excites him almost as much as the way his face looks in the mirror when he deliberately paints his lips red with juice each night.

For a while, it’s enough. And then it isn’t, and Kuzco goes searching for _more_.

He means to tell Pacha, but in the end he doesn’t have to. The one time Pacha doesn’t knock, too excited to share the news of the baby’s first steps, happens to be the first time Kuzco tries on one of Yzma’s old dresses.

Pacha stares at him with wide eyes, and Kuzco’s torn between covering himself and staring back in defiance.

“That’s not your colour,” Pacha says slowly, stepping further into the room. “We should get you something that _fits_.”

So they do. Kuzco decides he’s done with secrecy, because he’s the _Emperor_ , everything he does is awesome by default. He has the royal tailor design him gown after gown, and Chicha teaches him how to use _real_ make-up, and then complains affectionately when he ends up better than her at applying eyeliner.

Kuzco models every dress for Pacha, twirling and strutting, and watches the way Pacha’s eyes get dark as they sweep over the form-fitting lines, the way he looks dazzled and titillated by sequins and thigh-high slits in the skirts.

Whatever was missing, Kuzco’s found it now, and _damn_ his legs were made for heels.


	5. Far Beyond Saving (Axel/Roxas)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Kingdom Hearts_ , Axel/Roxas, rated PG-13. Set during _358/2 Days_. Written for [Fan Flashworks](http://fan-flashworks.livejournal.com), prompt "hot water".

Axel feels Saïx’s presence before he sees him. That familiar razor-edge calm, serene but with a threat of shattering into something dangerous with just a parting of the clouds. Axel’s eyes sweep across the high corridor, catching the shadow of Saïx’s coat, the coldness in his yellow eyes.

“Ho, what’s _that_ look for?” Axel grins, hands on his hips, tilting his head in something too twisted and deliberate to be real innocence. “What am I in hot water for _this_ time?”

Saïx stares back at him, hard and with a distance that seems to grow between them with every passing day.

“Number XIII,” he says slowly, just as Axel knew he would. “You’re getting too _close_.”

And Axel wants to laugh, but he can’t find it in him. Getting too close, it’s such a joke, because he’s too far gone already. 

It’s so beyond too _late_.

It’s there in the way Roxas’ body feels so _right_ beside him when they’re sat in their usual spot, Twilight Town quiet beneath their dangling feet. It’s there in the way Roxas always frowns a little when he eats his ice cream, the way he always stands a touch too close on missions, the way Roxas looks at him like Axel knows _everything_.

It’s there in the taste of Roxas’ lips, the way his hands settle so naturally against Axel’s waist. It’s there in the flutter of Roxas’ eyelashes and the arch of his back, the way he learns so fast, the way his skin always feels warmer than he has a right to be.

It was too late from the moment Roxas first smiled at him. It was too late the first time he looked at Axel, hesitant but hopeful, testing the word ‘ _friends_ ’ on his tongue.

Saïx’s eyes narrow, and Axel wonders how much he suspects. Maybe he’s not as aware as he thinks, because if Saïx truly _knew_ , he wouldn’t be here, with his warnings and his caution and something that once upon a time might have been worry, before they lost the capacity to feel such emotions.

If Saïx really knew anything, he’d realise Axel’s already in too deep, and he’s long since surrendered himself to drowning.


	6. All At Sea (Eric/Naveen)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _The Little Mermaid/The Princess And The Frog_ , Eric/Naveen, rated NC-17. Written for [Writer's Choice](http://writers-choice.livejournal.com), prompt "teach".

“I don’t understand,” Naveen admits, pushing his wet hair back from his forehead. “You have men to do all this for you, yes?”

Eric laughs, a little disbelieving. “The ship is manned by fine sailors,” he agrees patiently. “But that doesn’t mean I’m just going to sit back and allow them to do everything for me.”

“But you’re a _prince_ ,” Naveen says, brows raising incredulously, and Eric’s laughter grows more raucous. He’s met royalty like Naveen before, spoiled and carefree, but somehow Naveen makes a quality that should be shameful into something charming. He’s so good-natured about being raised with a silver spoon in his mouth, so self-aware, that he’s impossible to dislike.

“True, but a knowledge of sailing is a useful skill,” Eric explains. Especially on a night like the one they’ve just been through, waves lashing angrily against the ship’s hull. Eric’s soaked, and although Naveen stayed safely back and out of the way whilst Eric and his crew tackled the storm, he’s still equally as drenched. “I’d be happy to teach you.”

Naveen shakes his head thoughtfully, before his expression shifts in the swinging light of the lamp. There’s a sense of playfulness to him at all times, but it flares brighter in his eyes, grin turning _predatory_ , and Eric finds himself freezing in place as Naveen drops to his knees before him.

The chill of the ocean clings to Eric’s skin, but Naveen’s hands are startling warm as they settle on his hips.

“What are you doing?” Eric asks in a voice suddenly gone hoarse.

Naveen looks up at him with a glint in his eye. “You have your skills, my friend,” he murmurs, thumbs massaging slow circles through the wet fabric of Eric’s breeches. “And I have mine.”

It’s not that Eric is naïve; he’s been aware of Naveen’s flirting since reaching Maldonia. It’d be difficult _not_ to notice, since Naveen isn’t given to subtlety. And he’s not totally inexperienced, he’s known intimate touches like this before.

Still, the first brush of Naveen’s mouth against Eric’s crotch has him making a noise that’s earnest and _loud_.

Naveen grins up at him, clearly pleased with the reaction.

Eric swallows thickly.

Naveen’s hands hold him steady, mouth dragging over the lines of Eric’s hardening cock through his breeches. His lips are smooth, his movements firm and sure, and Eric presses a hand over his own mouth, painfully aware of the way sounds travel through the ship.

And Naveen, oh, he wasn’t joking about his skills. He has Eric gasping in no time, making needy sounds muffled by his palm, hips bucking against Naveen’s heat. Eric slips his fingers into his mouth, eyes falling shut, mind racing with the idea of what this would be like from Naveen’s position, how it would feel to have Naveen’s cock pressing down heavy against his tongue.

Eric can’t imagine successfully teaching Naveen how to sail, but the prospect of Naveen teaching him _this_ is a very promising one indeed.


	7. Parting Is Such Sly Sorrow (Hans/Flynn)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Frozen/Tangled_ , Hans/Flynn, rated PG. Set before _Tangled_ and _Frozen_. Bondage. Written for [100 Men](http://100-men.livejournal.com/), prompt "friends".

  
Working together seems natural, at first. They’re both after the same thing, or at least they think they are, right up until it becomes apparent that they’re _not_. 

Flynn wants money, riches to last a lifetime. And yes, Hans wants that too, but even more than that, he wants _power_.

He can see it when Flynn starts getting itchy feet, when he starts withdrawing. Careful and slow, so as not to arouse suspicion, because Flynn is good at using people. But Hans is _better_ , so he notices it all with a keen and practiced eye.

Flynn has been bouncing from one score to another since before Hans met him, but Hans plays the long game, and he has plans ready for every opportunity. And while Flynn walking away from their partnership may be a disappointment, it’s one Hans is already prepared for.

“Come on, I thought we were _friends_ ,” Flynn drawls, although his voice has an obvious strain to it.

“And we were, while it was mutually beneficial,” Hans replies smoothly, giving the ropes another tug. His knots are perfect, of course, but Flynn’s tricky and Hans isn’t taking any chances.

Which is why Flynn’s stripped completely naked. No way of hiding a knife up his sleeve if he’s not actually _wearing_ sleeves.

“Look, I get it, I have a bounty of my head, you’re not the first to try and claim it,” Flynn says with a shaky laugh. “But can you at least leave me my _pants_.”

“But this way is so much more fun,” Hans grins, and that gets him a glower, Flynn’s mask of charm slipping to show just how frustrated he is. Which means he’s realising that he’s in _real_ trouble, and Hans almost feels bad for him. They had some good times, after all.

“I’m gonna get you for this, you know,” Flynn mutters, and he’s practically _pouting_ , and Hans realises he’s actually going to miss this man. Of course, Flynn’s served his purpose, so he needs to be discarded, but for once Hans is rather saddened by it.

“Sure you will,” he agrees condescendingly, and oh, there’s _fire_ in Flynn’s eyes now. And Hans can’t help it, has to stoke that heat, still as spellbinding as the day they first met. Leans in and kisses Flynn, brief but hard, and Flynn growls but doesn’t jerk away. 

“One for the road,” Hans smirks, and Flynn glares at him, lips still looking soft, even with his mouth drawn into a thin line.

It’s a shame, really, but it’s time to move on, the royal guards will be close by now. Hans turns on his heel and saunters away, and he can feel Flynn’s eyes boring into his back until he’s out of sight.

It’s an impossible situation, Flynn’s defeat whole and absolute, but Hans isn’t convinced they’ve seen the last of each other. 

If anybody can escape such hopeless odds, it’s Flynn Rider, and Hans is already anticipating having that last kiss returned with interest.


End file.
